White Feathers
by Quig Alchemist
Summary: Ichigo has woken in sobbing screams. He saw the death of a girl he doesn't know, or at least doesn't remember. There's something he's missing and it could just be the reason for this familiar girl's mysterious death and what no one can seem to remember...
1. Chapter 1

White Feathers

Chapter 1

Ichigo could see her soft sparkling eyes fixated upon his own for a long instant, but then they grew wide, dark, and dim, fading to where they could only stare, unseeing at the raindrops glinting off the stars' light. Tears streamed down his cheeks as his heart trembled, threatening to break, and he felt himself dying right along with her…

The sobbing, bright-haired boy gripped the edges of his tear-drenched pillow with tightly curled fists, pressing it over his face. His pale, stressed knuckles bore a strict resemblance to the ghostly color of his skin. His chest heaved in pain from his relentless cries, threatening to choke him with hyperventilation. Heavy emotions poured out of him in an uncontrolled fit, as he very nearly suffocated under the fluffed pressure against his mouth. Though his tortured screams were muffled, they echoed like death itself, mourning the inevitable loss of life.

Ichigo stopped shrieking suddenly and his puffy red eyes flashed open. His pupils dilated in the darkness, searching desperately for an explanation regarding the treacherous noise that still rang within his room. He touched his quivering chin, realizing sickly that the sound had indeed escaped from his lips. He slowly raised himself up to sitting position on his knees, precariously holding his weight upon two unstable arms. He looked down at his damp and crumpled pillowcase and felt a wave of confusion.

_Who was that girl…?_He thought, his heart racing against his will. He could not slow it from running its endless marathon. He tentatively reached up to touch his cheek as well and found it streaked with fresh, salty droplets. _Tears? Was I really just crying? I thought someone was screaming in my dream…That couldn't have been me…_Ichigo breathed deeply and rubbed his neck with anxiety. _If she just…died, then who killed her…? _

The more he thought about it, the fuzzier the dream became, which only proved to further his bewilderment. All the images that were before locked into his mind were now beginning to severely blur, as all he could now recall were the girl's cold, dead eyes. The vision sent chills scurrying down his spine. He roughly shook his head, doing his best to erase the picture from his memory.

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"Ichigo, are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah." He answered automatically, blinking out of his dream world. For the last several minutes his eyes had been fixed on the boring, whitewashed kitchen wall. He looked around at his family reluctantly, wanting to avoid eye contact after the sleepless night. He was almost sure they would be perceptive enough to see through his unsaid lie. _Maybe they all slept soundly last night…_He thought hopefully, poking his cold eggs with a fork.

"I heard something really creepy last night…it was kind of like deep moaning." His younger sister Yuzu, who had previously brought him back to reality, said as she shivered. Her tone was absentminded and she seemed to treat the factor as some spooky, but harmless ghost. It obviously hadn't bothered her _that_ much.

Ichigo looked up at her, though still afraid to meet her gaze, and his amber irises burned with intense fear. His mind began to circle the possibilities that she had discovered the true culprit. If he was directly asked about it, he was unsure if he would be able to answer without falling into senseless, guilty babbles. He immediately became sorry that he hadn't stayed in zone out land.

"I thought it might have been Karin having a nightmare, but when I checked on her, she was fine." She continued, glancing at her dark-haired sibling. Ichigo's heart pounded in response to the false accusation, but he managed to hide his unease.

"Of course I was fine!" Karin retorted. "I don't have bad dreams! Are you sure_you _weren't the one having the nightmare?"

"Positive." Yuzu sighed softly and glanced up at her older brother. "It might have come from Ichigo's room though…" He shifted his gaze down, focusing fervently on a small-yellowed stain that streaked the tablecloth.

"Can I speak to you a second, Son?" Ichigo looked up, meeting his father's solid stare. He could see his sisters looking at him with what he thought was doubtless blame. He nodded shortly and rose from the table in a hurry. Isshin walked out of the room and his son followed with a small feeling of nausea. "What happened to her?" Ichigo's face drained of color as he froze in the center of the living room from his father's question.

"W-who…?" he answered honestly, though his voice shook with fault. Still, he refused to look him in the eye.

"Where is Rukia? I know she's been living here." Isshin stated calmly, folding his arms.

"I don't…know…who…" Ichigo's voice trailed off and he stared at his feet numbly, feeling his father's heated gaze.

Isshin snatched the boy's chin and brought it level with his own, decrypting the mystery within Ichigo's eyes in one swift movement. He stared into him for a moment, but let him go an instant later with a defeated sigh.

"You really don't know…you don't remember…I thought it wasn't true. It was supposed to be wrong. She didn't really…it couldn't have…" A deeply concerned man stood before him, debating broken statements in a way that truly made him a stranger to his son. It unsettled Ichigo to see his usually silly and indifferent parent to be so flustered over a problem, especially since it was not his to solve.

"Dad?" Ichigo asked, seeing Isshin's puzzled expression fall into one of overwhelmingly deep depression. It was almost if tears were bursting to be released from a tight seal just beneath his skin…

"It's nothing." He spoke quickly and closed his eyes with an obvious note of unavoidable sadness. "Have a good day at school. Try not to…try not to think about this conversation too much." Isshin placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder and squeezed tightly before turning back to the dining room.

Ichigo didn't move for several seconds, his breath shuddering. He heard the forced laughter from his family, his dad in particular, and decided to leave for school without finishing his breakfast. He didn't have much of an appetite anymore.

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Hello there! Quig here with another fresh dosage of emoesque Bleachy goodness! (Nice and angsty too with that special spice of mystery.) It's been a couple months since I posted up anything, so I'm thrilled to do it all over again:D

Hope you enjoyed the first chapter and I _promise_ to have the next one up soon!

Please leave me some reviews, they are _much _appreciated and help me write/type faster believe it or not. It's always nice to have some motivation. XD

Also, heads up, there's plenty of sad stuffies coming (in my opinion) and yes, its supposed to be that obvious if that's what your thinking. If you don't get it…just wait, it'll come to you. ;D

Bye for now,

-Quig-


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Don't you just hate Mondays?"

"Huh?"

"I said, 'Don't you just hate Mondays?'"

"Oh. Yeah, I do…" Ichigo blinked wearily for the second time that day and rubbed his face roughly. He realized, a few hours too late, that he had indeed been thinking about his bizarre dream against his father's will. He still couldn't help but wonder about the conversation though, knowing that Isshin was keeping something from him. Maybe it was better that he didn't know the reason for his parent's strange behavior.

"Hey there, Orihime." Keigo, who had presently snapped him away from his darkened thoughts, was now smoothly speaking to the well-proportioned girl that was making her way to lunch. She blatantly ignored him, which, though it was unusual for her, was the appropriate thing to do, as she sat several tables away, looking perplexed and more confused than normal.

"Shove it Keigo." Ichigo snapped, elbowing him away along with his sleazy, one-track mind. "Are you okay Orihime? You look like something's bothering you." Yeah, like he was one to talk.

"It's just…I feel like someone's missing today…I'm not sure how to explain it…" She scratched her head and a frown unfamiliar to her face spread across her lips.

"Missing? But everyone's here…" The dead girl's face popped into his mind inadvertently and he bit into his bottom lip. _Could she have known that person Dad was talking about this morning? _

"Don't worry about it. It's just a stupid feeling, really. You know, like one of those days you forget to wear…" Her voice trailed off and her face flushed crimson. When Ichigo didn't respond, his eyes far off, she smiled a big, fake looking grin and laughed unsurely to occupy the awkward silence.

The remainder of the school day passed by uneventfully, and Ichigo began to make his way home, yet again, with his head high in the clouds. He snuck into the house, doing his best to avoid another odd confrontation by his father, and made his way swiftly to his room.

He approached his bedroom door, footsteps slowing as he heard hysteric sobbing from the opposite side. It was so overly dramatized that it sounded quite pathetic.

"Hello?" He turned the knob hesitantly and peeked around the wooden frame.

A small yellow plush doll was throwing his tiny cotton-filled fists against the floor in rage and carried on with relentless tears.

"What the crap, Kon?!" Ichigo yelled at him in disgust, not really caring what the miniature lion could be so upset about. It wasn't like it was a strange thing to see him so worked up and it usually turned out to be nothing.

"She's gone! My sweet, sweet Rukia is gone!" There was that name again.

"Rukia?" Ichigo mumbled the word to himself as if no one else was listening. It sounded right when he turned it over in his mouth.

"What do you mean, 'Rukia'?!" Kon screamed in anger. If he were human, a vein would have surely burst in his temple. "How can you say that like you've already forgotten her?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He responded, shrugging off the temporary shock from the name and was now sounding bored. He walked right past the frantic stuffed creature and flopped onto his bed.

"You're only lying to make me more upset!"

"I don't see how that's possible, and even if it were, I wouldn't dream of it."

"I hate you, Ichigo! Tell me where she went!" The little toy roared, furious.

"Good bye, Kon!" Ichigo yelled over Kon's fresh outburst of tears, as he took off at a dead sprint out of the bedroom, no longer caring if the other members of the Kurosaki family were to notice a 'living' stuffed animal.

The door slammed and Ichigo rolled his eyes along with the shake of his head. He kneaded his eye sockets with bony knuckles, feeling extremely tired, and sat down at his desk to start the night's homework.

Focusing on his History and Math was nearly impossible. His mind kept wandering, every question centered along the lines of, 'Who was this Rukia person?' Apparently he had forgotten her, but how or why was still unclear. It wasn't like she was his girlfriend or anything, so it wasn't a tragedy to forget just one person. From the way Kon acted, it was like she was _his _girlfriend. Ichigo shuddered at the disturbing thought. But what if she was his…? He shook his head and scraped his fingernails against his scalp in frustration. He looked down at his Algebra homework after a moment and realized he had just written, '2x 5Rukia' toward the end of a problem.

_Fine. _He decided, giving up after hours of unproductive work. _I need sleep anyway._ He slid the remainder of the unfinished papers into his bag and yawned. Reaching over, he flicked off his lamp and lay back on top of his comforter. Ichigo sighed with content and the slight edge of unease as he drifted into an anxious sleep…

Her deep blue eyes, sparkling like desolate sapphires, were there before him again, staring up into his with pain. These were the few precious moments before her death. As he looked down at her sadly, sympathy rapping on the door to his heart, he couldn't help but wonder why he had unintentionally revisited this sorrow filled instant of time. Then, she vanished and the hazy world around him faded to black…

Ichigo blinked, trying to clear the thick relentless fog, and suddenly felt as if he were floating, bodiless in a separate space. He squinted toward a faint light resonating around two shaking silhouettes and felt himself hover closer from an outsider's perspective. The two figures, both cast beneath heavy shadows, stood within one another's arms. Their clothes were blackened, the invisible colors slipping into the background, but her pale, frightened face stood out like a beacon in the night. The man was facing away from Ichigo, concealing his features, and his back arched over the girl in front of him as they embraced in a final goodbye.

A glittering blade appeared at the man's side, splitting the dim scene, as he had discreetly pulled it from a sheath on his back. The girl trembling in his arms took no notice, her eyes frantic and far from the place where they stood. She turned her head, burying it into his chest with hysteric tears and the man flinched ever so slightly, quaking a bit himself. He kept the sword at his side though, steady and waiting.

The young, fair skinned girl looked up into her comforter's face, fresh tears spilling over her cheeks, and she suddenly seemed to hold her breath. Her eyes clearly pleaded for mercy as another silent cascade erupted from the depths of her heart.

The blade was plunged so sharp and swift through her chest, Ichigo had to blink several more times before he believed what he saw. He grasped his own heart with a curled fist, feeling her pain surge through his wounded veins. This was no lapse in judgment. This was…

"Murderer!" The venom-filled word burst from his lips and an emotion so powerful overwhelmed him that he simply lost all self-control.

He bellowed in the dead of night, repeating the hate that poured from his mouth without stopping. Ichigo punched his fists, one after the other in numb succession, against his bedroom window. The glass began to crack from the severe blows and the shards cut deeply into his knuckles, but he pounded on, uncaring. Crimson streaked and smeared the frosty pane as traces of moonlight leaked through, casting a dark red glow across the room. Tears poured from him with the same viciousness as the night preceding this one, with only one exception to his frenzied sobs: "Murderer!" he continued to scream, the word repeating, hardly leaving him a breath to breathe. His knees shook violently beneath him, unsteady on the soft mattress.

He could not stop himself. He had lost all constraint over his actions as well as his angered phrases that centered around his new favorite word: 'murderer'.

"Ichigo!" The boy could not hear, or perhaps he paid no attention, and only seemed to yell louder in response, increasing the crushing force behind his fists. "Stop!" Someone tried to grab him with rough hands around the waist, if only to succeed in unseating him, but the attempt ended in badly. A fierce elbow was thrown back at his attacker, connecting with his jaw, and knocking him back onto the floor.

"You murderer!" he shrieked, his voice cracking from pure, hoarse exhaustion.

The window shattered. Glass slivers and shards spun through the air, catching exposed skin and slicing it deeply. Only one of them didn't have the slightest bit of hesitation, caring less about his newest injuries.

Ichigo leaped forward unexpectedly, throwing himself toward the broken glass's edges, but at the last possible second, the man managed to sweep his son onto the floor in a tumbling crash. The boy scrambled back to his feet again, trying to launch himself toward the window again, but a large body pinned him to the floor. His father securely held his flailing wrists to the ground and pressed one knee into Ichigo's stomach to hopefully suppress the screams.

"You murdered her!" he shouted, kicking blindly at his captor. He whipped his head from side to side in a pathetic struggle to break free.

"Ichigo!" The boy froze, the name breaking through to his conscious self at last. He looked up through blurring vision into his father's face, and after seeing Isshin's commanding eyes take hold of his own, he felt his body go completely limp.

He cried without words. These were defenseless, helpless, broken sobs allowing him to do the only thing he could manage. His eyes became completely fogged with tears, losing his father's worried features in a wash of unbearable darkness. He was fully aware that Isshin towered over him with sadness and concern that only a parent could express, but he knew it no longer mattered. He desperately tried to block out the dreadful thoughts of what his father might think of his unacceptable behavior, but he instead let his mind collapse. Isshin had never seen his son cry so much since the day his mother died.

The torrential shuddering and tears lessened over the next several minutes and the man eventually let up on his grip against his son. Ichigo lay there in an unsightly heap, unrestrained, crying softer and softer until he lulled himself back into a dreamless sleep.

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Wows. Well, Ichigo might seem like a crybaby, but he has good reason. And it only gets worse. This is definitely another one of my 'poor Ichigo, his life really does suck' stories. But there's a lot more coming, surprises and all!

Hope you'll tell me what you think so far. Reviews are much loved.

-Quig-


	3. Chapter 3

I guess I probably need to tell you when this story takes place. It will make more sense for something that happens later in this chapter.

Ichigo has yet to go to the soul society. He has yet to fight Uryu and is just barely entered the battle as a soul reaper in general. Rukia had been living in his closet until well…yeah. That's about where we are. None of his friends know or have powers. I even think this before Ichigo knows much at all of Urahara and gets on that TV show with Don. As you can see, this is VERY early in the series, so its good for everyone, but it does have a pretty major spoilerish thing later that directly corresponds with the later chapters of Bleach.

Just thought I should straighten that out before I started getting questions about it in reviews.

Now, please enjoy the next chapter! (Sorry it took a bit longer to type than expected.)

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Chapter 3

The birds sang clearly, their cheerful songs projecting in loud sweet notes. The boy rolled toward the tranquil noise and his eyes flickered open half-heartedly.

Fiery red feathers fluttered on the creature before his face, as it perched contently on the windowsill. The bird twittered happily, warming itself in the soft glow of the morning sunshine. The sun itself was much higher in the sky than normal…

He reached out with a tired hand toward the cardinal, but stopped short at the sight of broken shards of glass protruding out at odd angles, each piece framing the winged animal a few inches out of grasp. He blinked, feeling clueless, as he saw scarlet streaks smeared across the sharp edges of the shattered window. A bloody, bandaged hand obstructed his vision as he stretched his arm out farther. This only furthered his confusion as he became aware of a biting pain over the ball of fisted knuckles when he flexed his fingers. They were deeply bruised for sure, if not covered in critical fractures.

Ichigo at first could not recall a single bit of the painful ideal. He lay in bed, gingerly placing his injured hand on his chest, and then slowly recounted the hazy memory from the night before. He remembered crying without shameless beneath the hold of his father, being needlessly restrained after losing control, after seeing the girl die in his dreams that he doubted were simple 'dreams' but instead memories…his father's face…Ichigo's heart shuddered. He could see the fear in Isshin's eyes. It hurt to reminisce. At least he hadn't had to explain anything before he fell back into what he assumed was sleep. He couldn't seem to remember much after seeing his father's helpless and deeply depressed expression…

He turned away from the bright and sunny day, its joyful presence the opposite of his sleepy nature. He sat up, careful to rub his eyes with his sleeve instead of his knuckles to dispel of his morning tiredness. He peeked offhandedly at the clock beside his bed and stopped with a subtle twitch. There was a reason the sky was so much more vivid this morning. His imagination was not playing tricks on him after all.

It was way past his usual wake up time of 6:35, not counting the multiple slams to the snooze button that should have occurred. The blinking blue digits expressed a time much closer to 9:30. At first a wave of panic rushed to greet him, sending him off the edge of his bed in shock. He snatched the clock off the miniature side table, his mouth gaping in disbelief. The button had been intentionally jammed into the off position, meaning his father had meant to give him an extra three hours of sleep. Not that he minded of course. Every lazy teenager likes to sleep in.

Several minutes later, Ichigo wandered downstairs, still dressed in his casual blue pajamas. He called, hoping no one would be around, and found an empty breakfast table. He scoured its surface, perhaps thinking he would discover an explanatory note. Nothing. He shrugged his shoulders, though not at all disappointed with the situation. He wasn't exactly in a talkative mood, especially today.

By the time 10:30 rolled around, Ichigo decided it was time to make his way toward school. An empty house can only be comforting for a little while, after that, it just gets creepy. And that was saying something for someone who saw ghosts.

When he entered the classroom, all heads shot up at him, each pair of eyes throwing him quizzical looks.

"Oh, Mr. Kurosaki. I didn't expect to see you today."

"Sorry I'm late, it's just that I didn't feel very well…" his voice trailed off and he shrugged his backpack nervously on one shoulder.

"Yes, that's what your father said as well. He called ahead earlier this morning." Ichigo nodded, feeling grateful that his father had thought about him, and he slowly passed his classmates on the way to his seat. Their eyes never left him; some studied his face and others darted between each of his fresh, bandaged hands. He eased himself down into his chair, and shoved his books beneath his desk from his bag.

The day dragged on at an unusually slow pace. He felt as if he had melted into the back of the classroom wall, as he was unable to pay any attention. He almost wondered if he had a severe case of A.D.D. each time he rotated his wrapped knuckles and gently rubbed them between his palms.

He knew he had witnessed murder. That much was certain. There was no way such an incredibly life-like dream—or more appropriately phrased as nightmare—would be haunting him so relentlessly otherwise. The thing that was simply driving him insane was not knowing why. His teacher's droning lectures weren't necessarily helping either…

"Where is he?! I'm gonna kill that son of a…!" A furious, flaming-haired man burst through the classroom window from the outside, spraying the edge of the class with shattered glass. A few girls shrieked, covering their heads, as the uninvited guest strode to the center of the room. "Show yourself you coward!" He glared at every face before him, expecting to find some vile snake hiding amongst the grass of students. He leaned close to a couple of boys on the front row, eyeing them suspiciously. His gaze traveled back towards the last row in the classroom and he gasped. "You!" He instantly leaped over three occupied desks with surprising grace and landed in front of Ichigo. The boy had hardly noticed his entrance until the intruder was right in front of him and scowling as if he smelled something terrible.

"What the…?" Ichigo gaped up at the man clothed in full, intimidating black.

"It's you!" His eyes glowed with anger and he snatched the front of the Ichigo's uniform in a rough bunch. He effortlessly lifted him from the seat and brought him level with his face. "Where is she?!" he demanded with frightening ferocity.

"Who?" Ichigo spat back, trying his best to measure up to the venomous intention. The rest of his class could only stare in shock.

"Don't you dare play dumb with me! You know exactly who I'm talking about! Where is Rukia Kuchiki?!" His face drained of color. Another person was looking for that girl. This was far more than a coincidence. He blinked, focusing on the dark, hate-filled eyes that bore into him, desperate for a truth that he could not supply.

"I don't know anything…about…her…" Ichigo stumbled over his last, unsure words, a dramatic shift from his defensive behavior that had come out before. Why it had changed so unexpectedly confused him more than ever. If he were truly innocent, then there would be no reason to act this way. Maybe he _did _know something, but he really just couldn't remember…

"You liar!" He threw a swift punch to Ichigo's gut, knocking him back to the floor. "I know you know her!"

"Well, I…forgot her…" he admitted under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the man towering over him. From this angle, he could see the old-style woven sandals the intruder wore on his feet and the flowing black fabric lined with white that draped cleanly over his body. It was almost uncanny to that of a soul reaper's outfit…and yet somehow slightly different.

"Forgot her?! How could anyone forget such a beautiful face framed by her coal-dusted hair? Her blue eyes, deeper than the sea, and her warm, irreplaceable personality…don't tell me you forgot a person like that…" He seemed intensely shaken as he spoke, and as he ended, a scarlet tint rose to his cheeks, effectively matching the wild color of his vibrant hair.

Ichigo stared up at him for several moments, reliving his nightmare. The description was more than accurate. He had thought some of those very same things about the girl who was…he couldn't bring the word to mind without externally shuddering.

"I did see her…" he began in a soft, cautious voice. The man's eyes snapped back into focus with fresh determination. "But…she was…murdered…"

"Murdered?! By who?!" He knelt down, grabbing a hold of Ichigo's shoulders and shook them violently as if he could discover the answer any faster.

"I couldn't see his face…she was stabbed through with a sword and she…died…"

"Why didn't you stop it? Couldn't you have done something?"

"I…don't know. I have no idea who she is, or why I was even there in the first place…she seemed so far away when it happened…"

"Is that everything you know? Are you absolutely certain that she's…dead?"

"Yes…" Ichigo barely hesitated in confirming the inevitable.

"I'd heard, but…I had to be sure…" He bit his lip, dodging the boy's eyes. His voice quivered and he breathed slowly, as if fighting brimming tears.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled softly, though not quite sure what for. He didn't know what else to say to try and ease the cold silence.

"You're sorry? I'm the one who should be apologizing. I interrupted your class and then punched you to the ground. Heck, you don't even know who I am, do you? She always did say I was a bit rude." Ichigo shook his head, unsure of where his cocky, and yet relaxed manner of speaking had come from and now how to respond. "It's Renji. Renji Abari, 6th Squad Lieutenant." He extended his hand and awaiting a firm handshake from the boy that was still sprawled across on the floor. Renji grinned, noting his injured knuckles and instead grabbed his forearm to help him up.

"Ichigo Kurosaki. Uh, student…?" he said as regained a steady footing beneath himself. Renji laughed like they were a couple of old friends at his introduction. Ichigo could see the confirmed soul reaper's depression disguised by his outburst of happiness.

"That's right. All these people don't know about us do they? Well, I won't be the one to spoil it. Don't worry. Judging from that look on your face, you thought I might tell, didn't you?" Ichigo chuckled nervously, but was still confused.

"I thought they wouldn't be able to see you…and that they might think I was crazy and being interrogated by an invisible creature or something…" Renji laughed warmly.

"No, I borrowed a gigai. No worries, they just think I'm some random nut job that crashes though windows and accuses people of murder." The last thing Ichigo needed was having the existence of the soul society brought to light and have his class flip out over it. The gigai explained the similar soul reaper style outfit as well.

Renji turned around and faced the broken window that he had made an entrance before speaking again.

"Guess I better be going…I'm not doing any good here anymore…" The superficial smile fell from his face as he sighed. A deep frustrated line creased on his forehead and the revealed sadness plagued his eyes. Seeing it only made Ichigo feel more responsible. If only he had known more to help…

Renji moved back toward the bits of glass that covered the busted sill and placed one sandaled foot on the windowpane. He nonchalantly flicked his bushy red ponytail to one side and grinned with humorous apology at Ichigo's teacher.

"Sorry about all this, Miss." He nodded briefly and his dark eyes traveled to meet his new 'friend's' gaze. He just as quickly looked away. Ichigo could see the overflowing pain swelling inside him.

Renji saluted the rest of the class, winking particularly at an attractive girl in the fourth row, before leaping from the window and disappearing from sight.

Ichigo stood still and he could feel the focused bead of many questioning eyes on every part of him. He walked back to his desk on quaking legs and plopped down in his seat. He reached beneath his chair, pulling out the first textbook he could find and flipped to a random page. He picked up his pencil, and gave his teacher an encouraging glance. _Nothing happened. _He thought to himself, hoping she could read his mind.

One by one, his classmates turned away from him, facing the front as they unenthusiastically proceeded in learning the lesson. Even his teacher didn't seem as eager to drill her student's heads with useless facts on the World Wars. This only allowed Ichigo more time to let his mind wander until the school bell rang at 3:00 that afternoon.

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See what I mean about the time period being important? Renji didn't know Ichigo yet, so naturally this seemed it would happen. At least that's how I pictured them reacting to one another after such a disaster.

How you enjoyed it! Please leave any reviews you wish and let me know what you think! Thanks so much for the feedback so far and I plan on updating as soon as possible!

Oh, in case you wanted to know, the next chapter is a back-story of things that Ichigo forgot…and what really happened when she died. Well, almost everything. ;D

-Quig-


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was a spectacularly gorgeous day. The afternoon sun was high above the horizon and cast dark orange colored shadows over everything caught in its vibrant path. A pleasant, gentle breeze made the trees sway in unison, rustling the autumn leaves of gold and red in their tops and swirled them across the ground as well. They walked along a dusty path, trodden and worn by feet of many before, as the two headed home. It was a perfectly average and yet so beautiful a day.

"What do you suppose is for dinner?" she asked, combing her fingers through the dark shoulder length tresses of her hair.

"I dunno. Whatever Yuzu decides to make I guess." He replied in a casual manner, hands stuffed for warmth deep within his jacket pockets.

"She's a good little cook. I'm sure it'll taste delicious." The boy nodded in agreement.

The two strolled on in silence, eventually reaching a much thicker cluster of trees.

A sharp beeping noise split the peace and the girl fished her hip pocket for a cell phone like object.

"Ah geez. Does it have to be now?" Ichigo groaned. "I was hoping for a monster-less night for once. Guess that was too much to ask…"

"It's a hollow all right." Rukia confirmed, as she ignored his needless bellyaching. "It doesn't look like a big one though. It shouldn't take very long."

"You had better be right." He grumbled, watching her pull a red and blue pattered glove from her opposite pocket. She slipped it over of her right hand, fingers protruding from the five slotted holes. "So where is the little mongrel anyway?" Ichigo was not in any mood to play. His stomach was growling.

"It's quite close. According to this, it's just on the other side of these trees…in them actually." They approached the tall wooded mini-forest and looked up to where her pointer had indicated.

"I don't see any…!" he began, but gasped in mid-sentence.

The air above them was instantly filled with hundreds of light feathers. They floated down with graceful poignancy, enchanting and hypnotizing. The two below could only stare as they drifted closer. There were so many that the brilliant orange sky was almost completely blocked, shading the soul reapers like a sinister and yet lovely cloud.

"What's going on?" Ichigo asked quickly, his mind the first to break through the trance like display. "Is it the hollow?"

"I think so." Rukia answered a bit hesitantly, still transfixed by the spiraling swirls of splendor and elegance. "I've never seen anything like this before though…" She reached up and gingerly plucked a small feather from the air, examining it closely. "It looks like…white feathers…" Her voice was slurred as she stated a fact that had already been established. "It's a real pretty day today…what's for dinner?" She smiled with sincerity and then tilted her head to one side.

Rukia's gloved hand dangled idly at her side, its purpose forgotten. Ichigo was getting nervous, seeing no indication that she intended on separating his soul from his body. Especially now that she was acting so strange.

"Rukia, what's wrong with you?" Another weightless feather floated down and touched her shoulder as it glided by.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, still smiling in a happy, care free sort of way.

"Rukia, where's the hollow?!" he yelled, beginning to get frightened by the her easy manner. He thought that maybe addressing her directly would return her senses…

"What hollow?"

A lazy silhouette crossed above the sea of feathers and Ichigo looked away from her, distracted.

"That hollow." He glanced up, indicating their target and then back down to Rukia again. "I need that glove, Rukia. Please give it to me." He reached his hand toward her, cautiously, as an attempt to break the spell.

"You mean this glove?" She laughed, peeling the fabric from her skin. "Here ya go!" She tossed it to him and then began to stroke her captured feather. It mindlessly focused all her blissful attention.

Ichigo slid the glove onto his own hand and then eventually succeeded in the difficult task of slapping himself in the head. It was more awkward than it seemed. His unoccupied body fell roughly to the grass, the fingerless weapon still synched against his empty palm.

The passing shadow that had been circling overhead vanished again, leaving no hint as to its new location.

"Where is it now?" he asked in a frantic tone. He turned his long, bulky Zanpaku-to over nervously in his trembling hands as he awaited a valid response.

"Where's what?" Her voice was clearly half, if not less, than interested. She didn't even look up at him this time to answer.

"The hollow!" he shouted in clear frustration. The feathers continued to fall, licking the soft green earth. Several others found homes atop the girl. Ichigo was wary of this fate and instead dodged like they were silent bombs. Something was definitely not right about this.

"What's a hollow?" Her clueless eyes connected with his as Rukia asked the question, her mind completely blank of knowledge.

That was the moment he finally figured it out. This hollow's power was simple. Erase the minds of it's pray and sweep in for the easy kill. Instead of directly attacking, feathers would supply the viable method of a soul reaper's undoing by causing confusion and forgetfulness. Rukia had been a prime target and was now almost completely gone…mentally anyway. He wasn't entirely sure if he would be able to retrieve it either. But he would worry about all that later. He was now realizing that their very lives were at stake. He had to be sure he didn't fall into the hollow's trap as well. As long as he stayed well away from the feathers, they had a fighting chance to survive.

"Rukia! Don't let anymore touch you!" Ichigo sidestepped another constant stream of death with swiftness due only to panicked adrenaline. He called out and saw her expression was blank, the previous smile gone from her lips. She had already passed confusion and was now frozen in place. She seemed content but wholly empty behind her eyes…

"Look out!" Ichigo darted forward, seeing another one about to drop onto her head, and sliced the feather cleanly in half. The two pieces drifted to the ground beside her, their ill-willed purpose defeated.

"Now why did you have to go and do that?" a high-pitched voice whined, echoing across the fluffy pathway. "She was almost perfect…that's how I like 'em, nice and mindless. That last one would have been icing on a particularly tasty cake…"

"Where are you?!" he shouted in anger at the bodiless taunts of the hollow.

"No where _you _need to know about soul reaper…that is, unless you want to play with my feathers too?"

"Never." He said fiercely, squinting his sharp eyes for any telltale signs of the elusive creature. "Now come out like a good demon so I can split your head and make you pay for what you've done."

"Oh, but I haven't even begun." The obvious 'she' hollow chuckled, highly amused by her dark game.

Ichigo heard a loud thump behind him and he spun to face the monster at last.

The beastly creature was far larger than him and its dark complexion glittered like damp snake skin. The white mask that covered her face was smooth and crowded with petite features. It wrapped around her equally small head with an almost attractive charm. She would have appeared to be a perfectly normal hollow if not for one distinct difference: two enormous feathery wings stretched out behind her and were nearly twice the length of her thin body. It almost appeared that she would topple over from the weight that seemed unbearable on her shoulders.

"Aren't we having fun?" Her mocking tone reminded Ichigo deeply of a happy, clapping child on Christmas morning. "But I wouldn't spend so much time looking at me. Your little girlfriend wants some attention too you know." She laughed with wicked intentions and he looked about to see nearly fifty feathers dropping with a surprisingly heavy speed toward the motionless Rukia.

His stomach dropped as he sprinted forward. He tried to ignore her chides in his head: _It's impossible to stop them all…_

The hollow giggled behind him and he leaped wildly into the air. Ichigo slashed as they plummeted, slicing many in unison, but the one stroke wasn't enough. His enemy had been right and now its previous words stung his pride. There were simply too many.

A single feather hesitated a few moments, almost taunting Ichigo's valiant efforts before crashing down on the unprotected girl. It nestled itself gently onto the bridge of Rukia's nose.

"No!" he yelled, snatching her shoulders protectively as if his touch alone would prevent the next few minutes of what he knew would be horror. He still had no idea what to expect.

The contact of the feather had almost instantly unfrozen her, releasing an uncontrollable flood of tears. They rushed down her cheeks and her expression became one of absolute fear. Nothing was seen as 'safe' before her eyes again.

"Who are you?!" she shrieked, fighting to break away from his unyielding grasp. "Leave me alone! What do you want?!"

"Rukia!"

"Who's that?! Who are you?!"

"It's me, Ichigo! Snap out of it, Rukia! You've got to calm down!"

"Who…am I?!" She screamed and dug her fingernails into the top of her head. She closed her eyes, shaking as she attempted to sling her fragile body from side to side. "I don't know who I am! I don't know…!"

"It's okay! Stay with me!" he shouted back, supporting her as she violently tossed within his arms.

Ichigo had been so focused on Rukia's trauma he had completely forgotten the hollow as well as the impending danger that was constantly falling from the sky. Something collided with his arm and he mentally stumbled. Who was the girl struggling in his embrace with wild frightened eyes…?

"R-rukia…" He shook his head, barely able to recall her name after just one feather's potent affect.

_Gotta be more careful…_Ichigo thought quickly, strengthening the commanding grip on her upper arms.

"I don't know who I am!" She swayed as she cried, but then suddenly stopped, searching for relief in the boy's amber eyes. "Save me!" Rukia pleaded to him out of pure helplessness, and fell against his chest, buckling into another hysteric sob. She kept her chin up and wrapped the front of his clothes around her fingers, fiercely straining her whitened knuckles to keep him as close as possible. Her dark blue eyes became hazy again and her trembling all but ceased. She felt frail and defenseless in his arms. "Kill me…" Ichigo gulped and tried to recoil from her death grip in surprise. It was an impossible request. "Please…!" she pleaded, not letting him back even an inch away. His heart melted…

Another feather fell, grazing the crest of his spine, and pressed his mind farther from sanity. Her request was beginning to seem valid…

_Poor girl. She's alone and doesn't even know her name…that must be the worst thing in the world…it would be the least I could I do…_

Ichigo slowly slid his sword from the sheath on his back and brought it to hang by his side. Rukia continued to weep into him, looking up with eyes begging for mercy. He smiled down, wanting to ease her pain before plunging the blade through her chest without another second's hesitation.

As if he couldn't finish the job fast enough, a pile of white feathers collapsed onto them, covering the two soul reapers that now awaited death…

"No!" Nearly three days later, Ichigo woke from a restless slumber, seeing this vivid nightmare as a true and terrifying memory. His pale face dripped with cold sweat.

"_I _killed her…! I killed…Rukia Kuchiki…!"

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I'm not sure what to say…O.o Poor Rukia…even worse for Ichigo in my opinion though…

Leave me a review or two if you want. Much loved. I'll have the next chapter up soon!

-Quig-


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Remembering had been like an electric shot to the heart. Ichigo had been so intent on discovering the identity of Rukia's murderer, that he had greatly overlooked the possibility that he was actually the one responsible.

Not only had he recalled the fact that he had indeed done it himself, but all the events leading up to her death as well. Even the day they had met…the day he had become a soul reaper…everything was back.

And yet, he had never felt worse than at that moment.

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A quiet knock came at his bedroom door the next morning, but it opened anyway despite the absence of Ichigo's acknowledgement.

"Are you awake?" He shook his head at his father's question and slid deeper beneath the covers. "You know it's time for school." Ichigo ignored him and pulled the blanket tighter around his body. "Did you remember?" Isshin asked in a calm whisper.

"I did it." He replied after a moment of silence, one meant to mourn for the dead. His voice was crackled dry and raw. "Rukia died because of me…" He addressed the wall, but every broken word was still audible. "I'm sorry…"

"It's okay, Ichigo. Everybody makes mistakes."

"Not twice. It was my fault last time too…" A heavy sigh filled with significant depression ruffled the thin sheets. Isshin knew he could only be referring to his mother's death. He took a gentle seat on the bed in response and laced his fingers together in his lap.

"Whenever you feel like talking…" He patted Ichigo's side above the comforter letting the thought trail off in silent understanding. He rose and crept toward the door, wishfully thinking his son was not listening and asleep.

Ichigo heard the click of the knob shut into place and he peeked out. The only thing left that kept him from losing it right there was the knowing his dad would always be around for him no matter what…

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The sky was clouded in thick, unforgiving darkness. Torrents of rain sputtered across the dim town, shining on rooftops and adorning windowpanes. An eerie quietness filled the humid air, only accompanied by the thousands of echoing raindrops to comfort the lonely boy.

Ichigo sat, legs dangling down from his windowsill. His butt was firmly planted on the edge, safety a few inches beyond him. He even leaned forward slightly, testing the danger as he laid his heavy face in his hands. His light tawny eyes searched the endless distance, each tracing the shadowed skyline. Their suffering was clearly marked by the darkened circles rimming the tops of his cheekbones. His soaked orange locks dripped from the pouring weather and his clothes had long become damp after long hours of watching nothing. Still, it was peaceful.

A silver car pulled into the driveway below him and a familiar man stepped out. A deep maroon chute was instantly opened and raised, shielding against the wet and unfriendly conditions. He clambered sideways, trying to maintain an unsteady grasp on at least three overflowing sacks of groceries as well as the handle of his umbrella. It was more than a mere task to shoulder the packages and keep them dry, but also not get soaked himself.

The boy watched, just out of his father's line of sight from the window, proceed indoors after a couple of elongated minutes. The locking signal on the car's lights flashed dimly through the fog of misty rain and then all was still and quiet again.

Ichigo decided it was time to leave before his father returned to his room for another 'chat'. What fun that would be…He didn't want to entertain the thought further.

He lightly leaped off the windowsill and splashed into a shallow puddle. He was still fully dressed—shoes in all—but at this point it wouldn't have really mattered if he had just gone barefoot. Trudging away with a heavy feeling of solemnity, he took a long last glance at the house. All he desired was a long walk, and he duly pursued it away from the ones he loved most. What if he couldn't control himself again and killed someone else? Distance, he decided, was the best way to prevent that.

When he finally untrained his eyes from the mix of pavement and grass, he found that his own stubborn feet were retracing the path that he and Rukia had happily traveled on a warm, dry afternoon not so long ago. He wanted to stop, turn around, and go back home. He wanted to apologize and curse at his stubborn self. But then again, he _did_ want to be back there again…maybe she _was _still alive. Ichigo held onto that distant hope as he wandered closer, rain beating and cascading over his skin.

He emerged through a patch of trees that quaintly lined the slick muddy road. His heart hammered in his chest furiously as he rounded the hidden corner. He fixed his eyes on the darkened and now empty place where he could just barely see the outline of a girl. She was not really there of course, but still, as an absolute precaution, he had to blink several times to make sure his eyes were not playing cruel tricks on him. He strolled toward her previously imagined silhouette with a casual step, but he froze, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably. His last step squished into the soggy ground and he suddenly couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling that he was being followed.

"Who's there?" he called without turning around. His voice was still rough and raspy deep within his throat. The only sound that answered was the gently pattering drizzle.

"Why look at that! It's the same stupid soul reaper from before!" A high-pitched giddy chuckle strait from a deadened memory chased his heart into a corner against his ribcage. The laugh continued to ring across the treetops in a dark and menacing fashion after what seemed like several minutes.

"Where…where are you?" he exclaimed, shouting to the wind as he now looked all around, his eyes peeled.

"Don't you remember, soul reaper? Or do you just want to end up like your little girlfriend?" A manacle giggle chilled the moist air and Ichigo clenched his teeth in anger.

"Show yourself you coward!" he yelled in defiance, his fists shaking.

"You don't even have a weapon." She laughed coldly again. "Why should I even bother?"

"I don't need a weapon to defeat you." He retorted in spite, still visually combing through the dense wooded curtain for the culprit.

"So you say…" A gusty breeze sharply drove the storm against his face and temporarily blinded him. He wiped his eyes, clearing them briefly as he shielded himself from the torrential barrage.

Ichigo felt frozen to the bone, his body unsure of whether to duck or dodge the next unseen attack from the swooping creature. He gazed up at the beast, recognizing an enormous pair of feathered white wings above him. They blocked the remnants of sunlight from view and he was immediately shrouded in a cloud of petrified darkness.

At the very last moment before the unearthly demon plummeted, Ichigo dove to one side, swiftly rolling out of harm's way. The creature turned to face him just as he scrambled back to his feet. Their eyes met and he sucked in an anxious breath.

The abomination of grotesquery, which now was seen as an obvious hollow, folded its deceiving white wings behind its glittering skin. Its entire body was hunched slightly, it's back laid with more curvature than last time they had met.

She slowly crept closer; her eyes glowed like yellowed embers and skimmed every inch of her prey. Ichigo felt himself plunging into a depth far darker than the blackness of coal as she stepped forward, shutting the sun from the sky…

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Cliffhanger!! Go ahead and yell…sorry. This was more of a setup chapter than anything else, so it had to stop somewhere!

Also, if you thought the grim fact that Ichigo killed Rukia was a surprise, just wait. I got another one coming up in the next chapter! O.O

Thanks for the reviews again and all my watchers! Wow! I had no idea this story was so popular!

I'll be fast (or at least try to be) to update!

-Quig-


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ichigo had no way to defend or attack. He may have talked big before, but his words echoed ineffectively like an empty threat. Really, what could he do?

The hollow crept closer, its vicious black claws piercing the soggy earth with every deadly step it advanced toward the soul reaper. A craze of desperate bloodlust illuminated her soulless eyes, pulsing hypnotically and entrancing her prey for a brief instant.

"You don't have a weapon either! How do you expect to beat me?" he shouted with aggression, despite the backing movement of his body language. It was obviously a stupid question, but he didn't want look like an easy kill…who was he kidding?

Ichigo crunched down on something hard and thin and his eyes swept toward it. A long pointed branch was just within nabbing distance. Quickly scooping it up, he armed himself, never letting his shoulders turn themselves from facing the monster head on.

A deep snobby chuckle shook him and he narrowed his eyes in malice, tightening the grip on his weapon.

"You can't be serious! Having no weapon at all is better than sharp stick! What are you going to do? Poke me to death? Tickle me, perhaps? If you think I'll die of laughter, than I've got news for you, I don't think I could laugh anymore than I am right now!" She was truly enjoying her tasteless joke and sniggered louder than ever. Ichigo frowned and slightly lowered the piece of wood in his hands, feeling smaller than an ant. _This really _is _pathetic…_

Her boastful chortling subsided and her amusement soon wore much thinner than her hunger. Ichigo eyed her carefully.

"Well, then again, maybe _I _could tickle _you_."

"Say what?"

"I said, maybe I could tickle you. Wouldn't that be fun? You're awfully cute after all. It would be a shame not to…you are single now."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Anger spread through him like wildfire and the branch shook violently, caught in the raging eye of his storm.

The hollow seemed to smile beneath her pasty mask and its wings spread wide over him.

Feathers filled the air, circling the boy and leaving no escape.

A nightmare. That's what this was. A horribly vivid nightmare.

He shook his head, knowing he was very wrong and he really would die. Whatever happened last time…there was no way he could get away alive again. Luck was like lightening. It never struck twice in the same place.

"Don't worry, everybody laughs. That's one good thing you could say about me. I make sure everyone gets a happy death. At least that's the way they see it." A tomb of white began to encase him more accurately than his own hopelessness.

"Of course they're happy! They've lost their minds! It must be bliss not to know they are about to die!"

"It's funny," She obviously wasn't listening to the fury in the soul reaper's voice. "The only one to ever cry was that girl…I don't understand it myself. She was the total opposite. Usually they just bob around until I decide to pick them off…Oh, and she was also the only one I never got to kill. I was a bit disappointed, especially after I saw that you had disappeared…"

"Well, sorry for ruining your _meal._" Ichigo spat at her in disgust and viciously swung his stick nowhere in particular.

"I have no idea where you got off to of course. It was really strange. I was confirming her death and then I turned to find you gone. I had covered the two of you in my feathers just moments before…there was no way you could have run after that…you simply vanished…" Ichigo had no clue about it himself so he stayed silent.

A lone plume swooped past his arm, narrowly missing him. Each sweeping feather seemed to have a dangerous mind of its own, and every second they were getting smarter, reading his moments in advance. It was all he could do to bat the attacks away with his branch, splitting the air currents.

"…But, I'm not about to let that happen again." Her voice continued, seeming much more sure of itself. A pair of malicious eyes peered out of the swirling mass of soaked feathers and the boy clenched his teeth in anticipation. Hopefully she would make it very quick and painless. What was it like to lose your mind? Ichigo had a feeling he was about to find out and closed his eyes.

The awaited wall of white washed over him like a Tsunami and instantly destroyed his mind. He wasn't sure if he was standing anymore, but his best guess said no. Each wet slap against him was like cement brick that smashed and cracked bones in the recesses of his mind. The supporting timbers were trembling, their weight failing as well. It wouldn't be long now.

He tried to focus on a girl—perhaps her name was Rukia—with his damaged entity. The onslaught wore on, severely crippling him, and her image wavered and vanished. Another inadvertent figure appeared instead after several moments in bottomless darkness, and he felt his hands reaching toward her dumbly.

"Mom?" A blurred, but pleasant face smiled at him, kindness shimmering from her at every angle. He felt her slipping away…her memory about to be dead forever…He fought against the inevitable and tried desperately to remember who she was and why she was so important…"Don't leave me…" he whispered stretching his fingers. She was beautiful. Her long brown hair bounced over her shoulders and her eyes were filled with pure compassion. Every feature was filled with love and soft gentleness…then they were erased with a dark fear. She screamed and faded from sight completely. "No…don't go…Mom…"

Ichigo's mind was ripped apart; his memories were scattered and now lost in the forever-ebbing blackness…

A slash of excruciating, colorless light filled the starving amber in his eyes with a sudden blinding flash. The glint of a sleek silver blade sliced the thick dark curtain away in a single stroke.

A man with a bulky frame stood tall, his shadow cast over the boy. His back was covered in a sheet of black and his silhouette was outlined in friendly warm sunlight. Dark messy hair styled in a vertical fashion spurred from his hairline and faint light trickled through. His body was curved in a trained fighter's stance along with his sword, both ready to do its master's bidding.

Ichigo could sense familiarity pulsing all around this strange person, but was still unable to grasp why. The more effort he put into remembering, the farther he drove his mind into a depthless pit. Who was this man…?

"Get up. You're not hurt." He growled in a firm, gruff voice. Something about his tone made Ichigo realize this was not a threat.

The boy writhed on the ground, his face pressed to the dewy grass, as he struggled to find his numb legs. He rolled to one side, planting his steps with knocking knees. After stumbling once or twice, his legs grew stronger, though not the same could be said about his eyes. They were still just as weak and blind.

"I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough to finish it last time. I never wanted any of this to happen. Especially not again." Ichigo's tongue was like deadened lead, unable to respond, and his mushy brain lacking the comprehension to understand the situation. "It was all I could do to erase yours along with so many others' memories to keep it quiet. I had no idea how bad it was and I didn't want you to get blamed…it really isn't your fault, Ichigo. Please know that." His words only halted for a moment, his thoughts spilling from his lips in the form of apologetic emotions. "Rukia's death was solely the fault of that hollow, and I intend on punishing her." The man looked down and back over his shoulder at his son, a genuine sparkle of mystery caught in his eye. "Try not to hate your dear old dad for all this." He shrugged his shoulders. "So much for trying to make things easier." He smiled with feeble weakness, a light chuckle playing between his teeth, and yet the air of extreme guilt made him turn away again. "I'll do the best I can."

Almost abruptly as he had appeared, Isshin Kurosaki was gone.

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Gotcha. Just try and wrap your head around all the stuff he said in that last paragraph. (grin) Lots of foreshadowing and ishness…

Also, in case you don't know…

_**-spoiler-**_Isshin really is a soul reaper. I did not _entirely _make it up._**-end spoiler-**_

BUT, knowing my luck, with all that was left open (that I filled in), Tite Kubo will tell how it actually is (back story, powers, names, etc.) tomorrow. And then this story will be for crap. But hey, it was fun along the way, ne?

There's lots more to come with lots of OMGs along the way. Coolness too.

Heh. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the next shall be up soon!

Reviews are loved, and I would just die to know your reactions! Heheheheh.

See you in a bit with Chapter 7!

-Quig-


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_Why does he look so familiar? Did he just say he was…my dad? Weird…Do I even have a dad?_

His eyes were finally beginning to adjust. The hazy outline of his savior was becoming more solid and concrete. This was reality. He wasn't dead and this man wasn't an angel sent from heaven. For one thing he was all wearing black. He didn't have wings either. Also, it wasn't hot enough to be hell (not that he deserved to go there that is). This man was protecting him _from_ death—his sleek sword was plainly brandished toward the dense light—not welcoming him to it.

"Get out where I can see you, hollow. I need to speak with you."

_Hollow? What's that? _Ichigo stumbled through thoughts that were surprisingly difficult to comprehend. He stood several feet back, a relatively safe distance from the action, but felt miles away to any knowledge trying to enter his wrung out brain.

A rush of sharp air rocked him back to his heels and a grotesque, feathered creature with slit yellow eyes swooped down. The man took a steadying step back, holding his ground as it landed only a few short inches before him.

"Why do you insist on interfering soul reaper?" The demonic beast spoke and Ichigo gasped a little, surprised by its intelligence. It was an injustice. Something so beautifully adorned with feathers shouldn't be so disgraceful and ugly.

Then he revisited the monster's words in his mind.

_What's a soul reaper? _The overwhelming feeling of being clueless was beginning to really take its toll on the fragmented pieces of his mind.

"I want my son's memories back, you murdering thief." His tone was calm, but not retreating an inch.

"Oh, I'm afraid that's impossible." She chuckled casually, as if they were two friends discussing a small matter over coffee.

"Then I'll just have to get what I want by force." The man's eyes narrowed and he swung his sword downwards in a vertical slice. A pulsing golden wave ripped from the blade's tip and raced toward the oversized menace at blinding speed. The collision caught it square in the chest, knocking her backward with recoiling surprise.

"You, you actually hit me?!" she screeched in anger, ruffling her enormous wings.

"Yeah, bet that doesn't happen often." He laughed, feeling cocky. "And I'll get you again if you don't surrender." The hollow audibly sneered in defiance.

"Lucky shot." It was her immediate justification. Never had anyone gotten close enough to talk with her, nonetheless fight back.

She crouched low on the balls of her feet in preparation of the soul reaper's next attack. Defense was all she was made for; this would be the first time she couldn't use the unexpected, 'silent obliteration' or 'death from above' method.

"You will give me his memories." Isshin laid a soft, but dangerous threat.

"The only way you'll get them is if you kill me first." He knew good and well that if he were to slaughter her quickly, the memories of not only his son, but also of every other person that had previously been devoured would be lost as well. He'd have to get them just before she died. Tricky as that might be, timing and skill was everything.

Isshin sprinted forward, taking a false swing before elegantly arching over the hollow's head in a graceful and effortless back flip. The creature was frozen, stunned by the ability of one who seemed so old. The hidden swipe of his blade was made effective by his body's distraction and he easily severed a healthy chunk from her feathered appendages. She shrieked, half in pain, half in rage, as her thin body trembled from the loss in weight.

Isshin rested his sword against his shoulder, a triumphant grin lighting the worn and tired features on his face.

Memories, all of which were not his own, flooded his mind. They lingered in his sight for a few short seconds and then transferred to the glowing length of his Zanpaku-to. He blinked, his eyes melting into the cool blue of erasure. The unclaimed scenes faded, dancing around his pupils as the coloration of his irises returned to normal.

_All those people's memories are becoming mine. Soon I'll have Ichigo's too._

The separate lumps of feathers began to disintegrate, falling to infinite dust as the supporting memories were absorbed.

"Ready to give up yet?" She roared in deep rebellion and fluffed her wings up, as would an angry feline or spiteful cockatoo.

He answered with the quick, decisive slash of his memory filled blade and rushed forward with the same urgency as before in his second attack. He swung again through the tense air, but he was this time met with empty satisfaction as she dodged with far greater speed. One of her full wings whipped toward Isshin's unprotected side as he glided by, feet inches off the ground, and spiraled at his rib cage. He blocked at the last possible second with the hilt of his sword and blunt forearm, just barely able to press her back.

The clash of metal and feathers struck, echoing ominously with long-forgotten voices against the strict wind and more of the hovering white puffs became dust after being divided from their host.

_Just a bit more…_he coaxed himself farther, as additional trapped remembrance of lives dissolved into his glowing blade. Isshin could feel the familiarity of his son's final memories growing closer and much stronger as he reached out.

The pale beast fumed, coming to a similar conclusion. The nauseating thought nearly suffocated her.

She swept her wings back at a sharp angle, propelling herself a short, safe distance away from the soul reaper.

"Last chance." His voice gushed confidence as he noted the truly animal like stance the hollow had now taken, as it prepared to give its all on the final strike. Her eyes boggled wildly with an expression that showed she was not willing to accept a conscious defeat.

"Never!" she spat with deliberate venom, shaking from the loss of control.

Isshin flashed to her within the blink of an eye and crushed his sword into her thin, fragile mask. She screamed, flapping in peril to recoil from his fatal blow.

The strike hadn't killed her though. It had merely been enough to weave a severe cracking scar across her face. The injured piece snapped away, revealing half of a young confused girl's face captured by steely green eyes.

The feathers withered like dying snow blossoms as the agonized screams of anger and frustration poured out of her. He pressed on with a steady, controlled hand, trained for delicacy under pressure. Thick, glittering mist began to replace sections of her body as he dug deeper, leaving sparse, shimmering holes in her skin. The tortured shrieks continued, their volume increasing with each element of her that evaporated into sparkling dust.

Isshin's blade began to vibrate, soaking in thousands of abandoned, soulless memories, and glowed as if illuminated by an internal light source.

Her now bodiless cries began to melt in the chilled afternoon and the soul reaper let his sword fall through empty air. He had seen a young, once human girl's face beneath the pain sobbing in terror…a face not much different than his son's a few short nights ago. At least now _she_ would be at peace. He wasn't sure if he could ever same the same thing for Ichigo.

Her sagging and degraded wingspan still hung, even after the screams had subsided, as they were suspended by a few last invisible memories. They drooped weakly, fragile to a final touch. The kiss of death.

A cool breeze delivered just that, blowing them against his face, and the remaining particles were lost. With each secure brush against his skin, a subtle tingling lingered before disappearing within the depthless case of his Zanpaku-to. His eyes viewed the sword's newest inhabitants at an inhuman speed and he accepted them with a heavy relaxed breath. Despite the massive download of information, he was under complete control…

The long slim steel fractured and a thin jagged crack raced down its silvery length. Isshin felt the split just as strongly as if he had been cut himself…as if a raging fire was stabbed throughout his entire body. He cringed, dropping to his knees as he clutched his chest with a tight fist. His breath became short and the quivering weapon fell from his grasp. It flickered feebly at the absence of his touch and its luminous shine faded to a dull, splotchy gray. The only part that continued to glow brightly was the snaking line of stress, but it soon smoldered and burned to a crispy black streak, hardly noticeable to the naked eye.

Isshin cast an apologetic and yet satisfied glance toward his son who was now lying in a disoriented heap. The pressure was simply too much for Ichigo to handle under these conditions. Even _he_ was struggling to stay conscious…His eyelids wavered between memory and reality, exhaustion crushing his strength. He crawled forward, whispering a promise to the boy.

"Don't worry Ichigo." The words were so faint, it was nearly impossible to hear. "I'm going to fix all this…" His speech slurred over his tongue and his body caved at long last. Isshin collapsed onto the soft ground, fingers outstretched, and his eyes closed…

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This chapter liked to take forever to type and get right! I was hard work (as most fight scenes tend to be) to get all the details correct, not to mention plot holes. Those suck and I definitely found one when I was about half way through this chapter…had to go back and fix it all over again. Grr. That's probably why it took so long.

But hey, is Isshin's little power ishness not cool?! Heh, granted, I haven't told you _everything _it does yet. ;D

More fun to come…although, it's getting close to ze end! I'll update soon!

Reviews make me smile, hits too. You should see me dance around when I get one, two, or if I'm lucky, ten. I'm probably one of the most animated people you'll meet. ;D

Till next time!

-Quig-


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The first thing that was remembered so vividly was the daunting and yet comforting image of his father. He could see the man's strong and determined face shimmering with confidence and pride, in turn, filling his son with relief. Ichigo had been right before. Isshin would always be there when he needed him…

A sleek, unknown blade whipped past his face, its smooth flawless surface only broken by a thin hairline fracture carved into the metal. The sharpened plane swiped by only inches away from his nose and he mentally dodged on perfect reflex and instinct. However, he felt no response from his body and he stayed completely motionless despite the surge of pure adrenaline. A sweep of coal-colored cloth brushed over his head like a remorseless shroud, its rough material though much more pleasant than that of a sword's edge. His panic spiked as all light became cloaked in masking darkness, far more incisive than even the smallest ray from the sun. Ice and cold trailed, hand in hand, freezing a desperate scream in the depths of his throat.

"Don't worry Ichigo. I'm going to fix all this." The firm words echoed within his mind like a deep rippling pond. Someone tenderly swept his hair to the side, and relaxation enveloped him. He then became aware that his own heavy lidded eyes had caused the shroud of blackness. Still, he could not open them in order to accept the far off light…

_Who is Ichigo?_ His own rebellious thoughts simply would not rest.

A flood of alien ideals entered his consciousness and suppressed all previous thoughts of feeling petrified and nameless. He knew it would finally be all right…

He was walking along a smooth white path, solid and steady beneath his feet. Walls constructed from of much the same surrounded him by all sides and yet didn't feel claustrophobic by their closeness. His footsteps were light and airy across the flat ground, an unusual occurrence to his known weight. He felt that his neck was inadvertently tilted at an incline toward the cloudless blue sky, as if he couldn't break eye contact with the beautiful perfection of the afternoon. His stride stopped suddenly, but he never ceased his upwards gaze. Internal confusion, foreign in its origins, ravaged within him to the point where the only way he could end the trembling in his lower lip was to bite it sharply, drawing a fine drop of blood.

"Hey, wait up!" He turned quickly, licking his lip in the process, and saw a familiar man with flaming red hair running strait toward him. This time, Renji at least didn't look like he was about to kill. Instead, a friendly smile and jovial laughter played across his mouth. "I told you to wait for me at the gate. Did you forget again?" Ichigo nodded with unsure intentions and sucked in his lip again. The bitter taste of iron washed over his tongue and he swallowed nervously. "So, how do you think you did on that test today? I thought it was pretty difficult myself." The boy could only shrug in silent acknowledgement. Renji stared down at him from a startling height, far more dominating than he remembered. "What's wrong with you, Rukia? Cat got your tongue?" He laughed, full of heart, but Ichigo couldn't hear, his joy in deaf ears. He had surely stopped breathing as well, eyes pulsing in wide, disbelieving shock.

_Rukia? _The thought was preposterous. Impossible. He had to have heard wrong.

A large, encouraging arm wrapped around him, the man's fingers snug just above Ichigo's waistline. It was a pleasant friend-like gesture, but the closeness between them made it increasingly uncomfortable. Especially since Renji was someone he had only met a few days before. Not only that, but he had accused him of murder…a murder, it turns out, he had been very right about.

"What's wrong? Really, this is more than just the test isn't it?" The boy couldn't move. The panic building inside him refused to settle, but he still managed to form small words across his trembling lips.

"N-no. I'm…fine…" His voice was high pitched and frightening. Only if he were hysterically crying would his voice sound so much like hers. No, there was no mistaking it. The voice _was _hers. Somehow, he was peering through the eyes of the deceased, into a world that no longer existed, into Rukia's memories of what he believed to be a dead time at the soul society…

Renji's eyes swam before him in pools of darkened worry when he peered back up at him again.

Although, the expression soon melted, the light walls and scenery around him fading as well, and twisted into another, much older male's face. This man's eyes equaled, if not far surpassing the worry found on the red haired soul reaper, but for entirely different reasons.

"Dad." Ichigo breathed out softly, squinting at the extreme light that followed the vision of her memory. He felt now that he was laying on a table, no longer walking, with a sterile, clinic smell circulating through the air around him.

Someone touched his forehead. Their hand felt like a shock of ice. He shivered all over, the sensation trickling down his spine, in response. Ichigo tried to sit up, wanting only to relieve the icy and strangely soothing touch, but another identically chilled hand forced him back down to a horizontal position.

"You have a high fever. Try to lie still. Your memory needs to recover."

"It's not mine." He mumbled, as he shook his head feebly, feeling his slick skin slide beneath the cold fingertips.

"Calm down, now." Isshin's voice was gentle and a little hurt with deep apology. "It'll come back soon." Ichigo imagined a warm smile spreading over his father's face just beyond the blinding lights…

Another kind of light, brighter this time but much less intense, set over his face. His nose twitched at its warm, calming rays, but couldn't bring himself to even slit his eyes.

"Feeling better?" Ichigo must have been noticeably stirred.

The boy nodded, dipping his chin without much enthusiasm.

"You gave me a real scare back there you know. I thought I'd lost you for sure this time." There was sigh-filled pause before the speaker continued. "I only wanted to protect you. I thought that maybe if you had forgotten everything, it would make things easier…" There was another elongated pause and Ichigo nearly peeked to see if he had left. "By this time you have probably figured out that I too, am a soul reaper." For some reason, his son wasn't filled with the shock he was expecting. Maybe it was emotional fatigue. "I'm sorry for never telling you, but I thought it would jeopardize your life. I guess you do that on your own anyway, being a soul reaper too and all."

"Something's not right…" Ichigo said, his voice barely rising above a hoarse whisper. "I can see pieces of her memory…before she died…before I…killed her…" The quiet indicated that Isshin was unsure how to respond.

"I was afraid of that," he admitted. "Both of your memories were so similar in the end that it was difficult to discern between the two. I may have input too much of her into you. I was worried that I might lose your personality, or worse, your mind, in the jumble if I skipped over anything…"

"No, I'm still me, Dad. Don't worry." Ichigo finally pulled his eyes open by the most miniscule crack and found that he was now lying comfortably across his bedspread. His dad, he was greatly relieved to see, was sitting beside him in a rolling computer desk chair. The man's faithful gaze, so solid it looked to have been etched in timeless stone, roved over him continuously. "How long?" Ichigo asked after a moment, shutting his eyes again. Isshin's stare was far more penetrating than he could handle at current minute.

"What?"

"How long…have I been unconscious?"

"Well, when you first woke up, it had only been hours…since then, it's been about a day." He heard his dad rise from the chair beside him with a heavy breath. "I just wanted to explain a few things." Isshin walked away, his conversation completed, and opened the bedroom door. "Oh, and one other thing." Ichigo blinked to resettle his blurred vision and rolled to one side so he could face him. "Don't worry about your friends finding out about all this. I erased any memory they possessed of Rukia."

"Wait!" He sprung from his bed and nearly toppled to the floor as the ebbing blood rushed to stay in his head. "_You _erase memories too?!"

Isshin chuckled offhandedly with devious intentions.

"Did I forget to mention that? Sorry, must've slipped my mind…" Ichigo glared, desperate for a serious statement. There were so many other questions he had for his father, but the pounding headache was hindering his present mental capacity. "Yes," he answered at last, his face falling into a stern frown. "That is the power of my Zanpaku-to."

"So then…" Ichigo was trying to think, but his steps were swaying and temples throbbed painfully. "How many years have you been wiping your family's minds?" He tried his best to sound angry and betrayed, but his condition was extremely distracting.

"Not once, that is until it was necessary in order to save your life."

"…I guess I believe you," _What choice do I have? _He thought grimly. "But promise that you'll _never _do it again under _any _circumstances."

"I promise." Isshin nodded with true sincerity and turned away again to the exit. As he proceeded down the hallway, he thought: _It's not like I could now anyway. If anyone were to ever tamper with your mind again, it could never be repaired…_The idea of losing the closest member of his family, one of which he shared a deep invisible bond with, was almost more than he could bear. He shuddered.

Ichigo's fists were still clenched and shaking with fury after his father had left the room. _To think, all this time…_ Between his searing headache and untamed anger, the internal sentence remained unfinished. It made him absolutely furious.

_Although, _Another, much weaker and soft voice began to speak within his head. _He did save your life. The first time he found you in that clearing alone, he knew something horrible had happened. He only erased your memory to protect you…He wouldn't lie about that. Don't be angry with him. It's not yours nor his fault that hollow was there…neither of you could have prevented my death._

Ichigo then realized that he had not only inherited the memories of his lost friend, but her subconscious thoughts as well. They felt and sounded far too real to be fabricated by his own wishes and fantasies. Then again, maybe she _was _still aliveShe was living in _him_.

He noticed that he was gaping at the peeling painted wood of his door and reached to close his mouth before his feeling of stupidity could sink in.

He sighed along with a smile unseen for many days and imagined it spreading to the bottom of his cheeks. She hadn't left him forever after all. Knowing he still had a little part of Rukia, even if it was only fragments of her past, made Ichigo feel just a tad bit better.

The End

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Well, in a way it's 'The End'. I have an Epilogue that I want to post after this chapter that could set up for a sequel, but it's going to be a while before the sequel gets put up. (It's not even written yet. Heh.) But, I'll give you a short summaryish thing.

It's going to be Isshin's story this time and what will happen after his sword gets cracked. It's written in a past to present view, much explaining he and Masaki's (his wife before and after she died) back-story. I've always wanted to write their semi-fluff story, but it'll probably be awhile.

Let me know if you think it's a good idea. It does have to do with the split he got in his blade and he starts to see things that aren't there and stuff…messes with him really bad…and gets sorta emo later. Heh, but would you expect anything less from me? :3

Anyway, I just want to explain the title. Of course it is self explanatory, but I mean where I got it (in a way). I don't know if any of you got the hint from the end of the chapter where the hollow corners Ichigo, but it was also a clue. :3 I'm a big L'Arc-en-Ciel fan, so yeah…the second hint was for the hardcore fans (early Dune cd). Yeah White Feathers:D

Alrighty, so that's about all I have to say…please give me some feedback on what you thought of this story along with what you think of the new one.

And last but not least, THANK YOU for reading! I've never had so many watchers before!

Much love! XD

-Quig-


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue

Isshin hadn't felt so incredibly alive in years.

He raced across rooftops with an effortless speed, his movement unseen through quickness and stealth as an invisible being—a god perhaps—of death. No average human could even dream of competing with his silent sweeping steps. Still, his pace increased over the shingled pathways, as the thrill of regaining something he had once loved surged back into his pulsing veins.

How many years had it been since he had been free to roam in the form of soul reaper? Twenty? The number was far too many as far as he was concerned. Still the loss of time within a gigai had been worth it for _her_…

His thin glittering Zanpaku-to, Kioku Dorobou, hung beneath his cloth belt, swinging against his thigh within its dark sheath. A long snaking crack, almost undetectable, stretched along the enclosed sword's length, but Isshin wasted no thoughts on it or what could come of the damage. The wind was just _so _wonderful tonight. It slashed against his face like thousands of icy daggers, painful and yet refreshing as if he had been dipped in frozen waters… or an awakening from a long, tedious dream.

Was there a hollow on the prowl this night? He sincerely hoped not. This freed man wanted only to glide through the sky, arching over telephone poles and touching the twinkling stars…but fate would of course see it differently.

"Oh Charley, look at that! There must be a beautiful dove around here somewhere…"

"Silly, that's not a dove's feather…"

Isshin blinked away a spurt of brief blindness and his next footfall faltered dangerously near to the edge of a roof eve. After pausing a moment to regain his swirling head, he leaped on, regardless of his broken concentration. The previous feeling that was obtained from his exhilarating flight had now waned as he was entirely focused on the voices of the two unknown people.

A sudden burst of emerald sage shattered his sight and he felt his forehead rip with a shot of white-hot pain. The sky of dark speckled navy became hidden with a slow churn and faded above him, soon to be replaced with the return of the vivid green path he had seen only seconds before. Still, he felt completely incapacitated, his clumsy feet stumbling forward out of their own willpower across the unfamiliar track. His pulse quickened exponentially as the horrifying feeling of being chased at his every insecure movement suffocated all logical thinking.

A pair of leering eyes flashed before him like a bolt of lightening and made him cringe in terror…

Isshin shook relentlessly, a tremble that had begun at the tip of his spine and contorted his body into heaving breaths. His eyelids wavered against unconsciousness, wholly fighting his quaking body for control.

The shine of the moon remained steady, growing faintly brighter with each moment. He sucked in a deep gulp of cleansing air. At the pinnacle of his breath, a dim glow lured his vision away and he saw the crest of his sheathed blade illuminated with vibrancy at his side. He continued to deprive the release of oxygen from his lungs as he grabbed to withdraw the weapon with numb digits. As he drew it, his breath sputtered, finally escaping between his lips, his surprise unable to be contained.

The tiny facture in his sword was glowing violently, its depth increasing as he watched it with wide eyes in the darkness. It stretched further before withering to a total, undisturbed black crevice.

His body felt frozen, chilled to deepest part of his bone.

_That wasn't my memory…after I seal them in my Zanpaku-to, they aren't supposed to resurface unless I call for them. Does the splitting steel have anything to do with this malfunction in my power? _Never had this happened…nor had he lost control with such severe consequences. _Maybe I _am _getting too old for this now…_

He stopped moving altogether, focusing his effort to stop breathing in meditation.

For many years, Isshin had learned to create a separate, sacred space for his most cherished memories. They dwelled within the deepest part of his mind, far from mixing with the intruding thoughts and ideals of those whose memories he captured. It was a place that he and the woman he loved dearly could share for an eternity, even after her untimely death.

A broad grin struck across his whitened face. He could still see her…she was smiling at him with her kind eyes…

The disrupting blade had not damaged Isshin's own memories just as he had previously feared…at least not yet.

To Be Continued…

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First of all, I apologize for how long this took to type up. There's a nasty flu bug going around my town and well, I caught it for a while. Blech. No fun there.

Okay, this is of course an epilogue/way to set up a sequel. I do have a sequel in the making, but I don't know how to end it exactly yet. So…it could be a lot longer while still. I don't even know a proper title for the thing yet. Sigh…

Also, the name of his sword means _Memory Thief _in Japanese. Thought that would be a fun touch. :)

Hope you'll stick around for Isshin's story too!

I'll be sure to post up another 'chapter' for this one which will contain a detailed summary of the new story and a link as well.

-Quig-


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